Ashes to Ashes
by Absentdementia
Summary: Tom's hands were made for destroying. He should never have tried to hold on to something so beautiful in the first place. He couldn't go on denying his nature for long, could he? And now, the only thing he had ever treasured in the whole world was turned to ash by his own hand.


A/N- Ehh.. I uploaded this a while ago but messed up something.. So sorry and thanks to the one who warned me about that. Aaaanywayyy.. this is something that I wrote for a tumblr challenge and I was in an not so fluffy mood so… Even in heartbreaks I can't make either of them cheat. Nuh huh. Tom and Harry all the way! Till death do them apart. Literally.

I will just shut up now. Oh yea.. the regular disclaimer .. doesn't belong to be yada yada.

Story…- -

Tom looked at the agony filled green eyes calmly, the placidity of a person who had managed to do something he had been forced to wait for. He had not even realized how much anxious he had been for right this moment and as life slowly drained out the beautiful eyes, the coiled tension slowly left his hyper-aware body.

The moment of the kill was always crucial after all, and no matter how much Tom might have familiarized himself with the process, it always takes him off guard. The time leading up to the climax slowly got saturated with nerve- rattling anxiety, only to dissipate into peaceful satisfaction when finally it was finished. Rather like how a drug-addict feels as he takes a hit actually.

Sharp gasps and even breathing were the only sounds in the brightly lit place, home of the one who had trusted his own murderer with its key.

Eventually the green eyes fluttered shut and the heart-beat underneath his patient hand drew to a eventual stop.

Tom Riddle coaxed the pliant body to the sofa, instead of standing against the wall as they were, and manipulated both of them so that the dark head was resting upon his lap,

"I am sorry, Harry. I tried to resist. I really did. I thought I had better control, apparently I don't. But see, this way we don't have anything to worry about anymore. I don't feel that conflicted and you would never feel like I am trying to purposely avoid you. Everything that was hurting us is gone now."

Lovingly he caressed the peaceful features of his lover, who was now relaxing after all that painful affair. Blood stains lingered after his fingers touched the pale face, dark hair. Tom didn't mind. They would clean up together. Harry just needed to open his eyes now.

The anxiety that had faded away after he had given into the compulsion slowly returned to his heart. He did not understand. Usually he had had few days of reprieve.

But this anxiety was different. Harry had to open his eyes now.

"Come on, love. Open your eyes. I am sorry I lied to you and hid this from you. You wouldn't have agreed to be with a killer if you had known, would you? But it is all right now. There is no secret between us anymore."

Tom groped for the knife still sticking into Harry. There was minimal blood outside, but Tom Riddle didn't like messy kills.

It clattered uselessly to the floor.

"Open your eyes, love."

Perhaps Harry was a little tired. So he raised his precious bundle halfway into his arms, not caring for the blood now sporadically coating both of them, and sighed contentedly holding his love curled beautifully on his body.

"Would you like me to tell you a story, precious?"

Unaware he had started rocking the body in his arms, Tom soothed the chaotic mess that Harry called his hair. He smoothed a dark strand down only to have it spring it back stubbornly.

Tom smiled in fond amusement.

"Let me tell you the beginning of our story. Do you remember how we met in the library? I was a frequent visitor and you wouldn't have seen the inside of it if it were not for the fact that you were working there part-time. I don't think we would have met otherwise. You were exactly my type. From the first time I saw you, I couldn't help but wonder if those green eyes would look as beautiful when life had left them. I had decided before I even knew you, you see."

He kissed the soft, dark head in mute regret.

"I am sorry for hurting you however. Open your eyes, let me see them again. Let me look at your beautiful eyes. Open them and I will tell you everything sweetheart."

Those eyes that always gleamed so brilliantly, in happiness or sorrow, in anger or pain, he had treasured them. And the last time he had seen nothing Harry in them.

"Take your time. I am right here waiting for you."

Tom held the treasured one close to his body, holding and rocking slowly, while numbness slowly spread through his veins.

A/n—he he.. sorry?


End file.
